


I close my eyes but you're still there

by owl_fruit



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I love the Jericrew, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, the reed900 is background but i love it anyway, this ship needs more wholesome content and i’ll do it all my damn self if i have to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:22:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owl_fruit/pseuds/owl_fruit
Summary: There is a beast that lives in a castle beyond the memory of the world around it.  Markus finds himself bargaining for his life in exchange for his father's; trading his freedom away in the process.  But is there more to the beast than the frightening monster first appears?Or,Beauty and the Beast AU with Simon as the Beast and Markus as Belle because why not
Relationships: Markus & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please gives notes or ideas, there are so many characters I want to add but I'm not sure what role I should put them in T-T. The beginning portion with Simon takes place ten years before the present when we meet Markus and where the story actually takes place.

“The storm will pass eventually.” Simon turned at Kara’s words. She set a tray at the foot of his bed while he took another glance out of the window. 

“Is Alice feeling better?” He asked. Kara smiled, brushing a hand over her daughter’s forehead. Alice was cradled in a sling across her mother’s chest. The baby cooed at Simon happily. 

“Her cough seems to have disappeared. Just in time for your upcoming birthday. Twelve years old is quite the milestone. You’ll be a teenager before you know it.” Kara grinned, speaking over her shoulder as she tidied the room. 

As Simon was about to respond, a sharp knock at the door cut him off. “Come in.” 

Nines, a boy not much older than him, stepped into the room. “There is a… woman at the castle entrance requesting to speak to you. She was very specific.” The concerned tinge to Nines’ voice made Simon hesitate.

“Lead the way.” 

They made their way through the castle. Nines kept sending cautious glances to Simon, which didn’t help his nerves at all. It was like neither of them were sure what to do. Since his parents had died, Simon hadn’t had to perform many ‘princely’ duties without support. Whatever this woman wanted, must be a royal concern. Maybe it was the rage of the storm or the late hour, but Simon’s mounting anxiety steadily rose at the prospect of any serious problems.

A steady dripping came from the foyer. In a puddle of rainwater stood a haggard woman, soaked to the bone despite the hood drawn up around her. 

“Prince Simon.” Her voice was rough with age. She lowered herself in an attempt at a bow, but Simon hastily gestured for her to stop. “I have a humble request of my prince.”

“What would that be?” Simon shoved down his discomfort. The woman leered at him. Something sinister glinted in her eyes. 

“All I ask is for shelter through this storm. My travels have sent me here and I have nowhere else to stay.” She reached a gnarled hand into the folds of her robe. When she withdrew her hand, she held a stunning rose. Simon didn’t know how it had managed to stay dry and untouched in the vicious weather, but its beauty was captivating. “I can offer this in return.”

He hesitated. The danger of strangers was not an unfamiliar concept to him. His parents had made sure to teach him. And looks could be deceiving… could the woman be an assassin? Or a thief? Something about the way she held herself didn’t feel right. 

“I’m sorry. I cannot give you shelter tonight, but I can point you in the direction of a very kind family who takes travelers in on occasion. They could help you.” He offered with a small smile. The woman’s face fell. All traces of kindness vanished. Now, her face was painted with a simmering rage.

“So this is the hospitality that you choose to bestow on a woman like me. Such a shame you could not have more appreciation for those less fortunate than you.” Before Simon could protest, although he was not sure what he would even say, blinding light erupted from the woman. The energy released threw him back, sending him flying across the foyer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nines slam into an ornate column. 

The light did not dim, but Simon could faintly see the old woman’s appearance melt away. When it faded, a gorgeous young woman stood in her place. An enchantress. She strode over to him. Simon tried to raise his head as she towered over him, but all he could see was the lower half of her face. Her lips moved around cruel words.

“It is time for you to learn a lesson young prince.” The rose she held was thrown at his feet. A manicured hand stroked the side of his face, lifting his chin up. “A lesson for which you shall all suffer the consequences of failing to learn.” 

The enchantress stepped back as an agonizing tightness filled Simon’s chest. The very bones of his body seemed to be shifting; changing. He began to scream, louder than his lungs could handle, against the onslaught of pain.

“At the end of your 21st year, if you have not found love, you will have sentenced yourself and all the members of this castle to a life of misery.” Deep fire raged in her eyes. Simon clawed at the ground as the pain grew; hardly realizing that it was no longer his fingers.

“Please…” He whimpered. The enchantress stared him down with not a trace of pity in her gaze. Simon reached out a hand desperately. But the enchantress merely turned around, and walked towards the castle doors. 

“Love, little prince. Love and be loved or this is the fate you will suffer for eternity.” She said coldly, before disappearing through the doors.

~ ~ ~

Sumo came barreling into Markus’s legs, knocking him flat on his ass. He groaned, before giving the giant dog a warmhearted smile. “Someone’s excited.” Paints and books were scattered around him from where they had flown out of his hands. Markus carefully put them back into order as his friend Connor appeared and offered him a hand up. “Morning Connor.”

“Sorry, he’s got a little extra energy this morning.” Connor pat Sumo’s head. “New paints for Carl?” He asked, gesturing to the jars.

“And some new books for me.” Markus held up one of the volumes. “Aristotle and Descartes this time.” 

Connor examined it, skimming the pages for a moment. “Free will? That’s a heavy topic. Must be interesting.” He handed the book back as they began to walk towards Markus’s house. 

Markus tucked the paints into the pouch hanging off his hip. The village baker passed with a tray of fresh bread and Markus dropped a coin in his hand for a loaf that smelled like sourdough. He tore off a piece and let Sumo eat it from his palm. The afternoon bells were tolling loudly above. Markus and Connor spent the rest of the way chatting, until they realized they had almost passed the house. The chickens in the garden scattered as Sumo chased them enthusiastically. 

“Give your father my well wishes.” He told Connor as he opened the gate. They waved goodbye to each other. 

Carl was focused intently on his current piece as Markus set down his purchases. He didn’t look up as Markus handed him a clean brush. Oil clung to the bristles stubbornly. Markus took the dirty brushes and set to work cleaning them off. A dry cough filled the otherwise silent room. Markus watched his father wheeze. He placed a mug of water in Carl’s hands, staring at him in concern while he drank. 

“I’m not sure you should go tonight. Your health isn’t getting any better. An art show can wait.” Markus told him.

Carl sighed. “Markus, I can’t stay in this house forever. I want you to have an inheritance to thrive on before my health makes it even harder to make a living.”

Markus knew there wasn’t much use trying to talk Carl out of it. He resigned himself to help wrap the paintings that Carl planned on taking with him. Once the collection was ready, he took them out to the cart. 

The setting sun cast shadows over the garden. Markus sat amongst the rosebushes his father had kept before his health declined. For a moment, he could watch bumblebees drifting lazily over the petals. He could pretend that he wasn’t agonizing over whether or not Carl would live to the next summer or that others in the village would whisper about his strange interest in philosophy when he walked by. 

Small village, small minds.

He couldn’t escape their judgment, but that didn’t mean he was afraid of it. 

A mourning dove cooed at him from a fence post. He watched as it flew away, trying not to draw a parallel between the bird and his own desires. Escaping seemed all too appealing some days.

The front door opened and Carl came down the stairs holding the remaining paintings. As Markus helped him up onto the cart, Carl placed the paintings behind him.

“Is there anything you would like me to bring you when I return?” He asked Markus.

Markus pondered over it for a moment. The rose bushes caught his eye as he thought.

“A rose.”

“Any particular reason?” Carl asked.

Markus smiled. “You’ve been telling me that I should try my hand at painting. If I painted a rose that you brought back, then it would hold that emotional connection that you’re always telling me to use in art.” He said with a chuckle.

Carl looked thoughtful. “Then a rose is what I will bring. I’ll be back before you know it.” He pat Markus’s hand, smiling.

The cart pulled forward. Markus leaned against the fence as his father disappeared from view. A subtle sense of worry crept into his mind, but he wrote it off as he went back to tending the garden. It was only a short trip after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagined Ben Lambert's hair color a little more than Simon's s u p e r bright blond hair when I was writing about his fur. And I stand by the fact that Jesse Williams is p r E T t Y

The woods were unforgiving to travelers. It was a miracle that Carl made it through them every few months for various art shows. Thick branches blocked the view of the sky. Fog swept beneath the wheels of the cart.

“I think… it would be a safe assumption to say that we’re lost.” Carl said to his horse. It nickered quietly in response. As he spoke, Carl noticed a faint smattering of cobblestone road ahead. It appeared as if no one had used the path in many years, letting it be reclaimed by the earth. “Let’s take this way. Maybe we’ll come across somewhere we can get our bearings.” 

The path trailed on for what felt like hours. A deep sense of familiarity filled Carl, yet he couldn’t place why. 

Yips echoed through the trees. Carl watched as his horse’s ears swiveled nervously. He clicked quietly and made the horse speed up. From the midst of the fog, Carl saw the distinct paw of a huge wolf appear through a shadow. With a sharp crack of the reins, they took off as fast as the horse could manage. 

Ahead, a single tower erupted from the tops of the trees. Then it was joined by more, and more, until Carl could see an entire castle at the end of the path. He spurred the horse onward. The wolves had begun to flank the cart, much like a carnivorous escort. A gate of wrought iron flung itself open before the cart had a chance to collide with it. Before Carl could spend a moment to wonder what force had pushed it open, the hitch came undone from his horse. The cart went careening into an elaborate piece of topiary. As Carl pulled himself from the foliage, he watched his horse make its escape back through the gates before they closed behind it. 

Carl made a melancholy noise as he saw the destruction the crash had brought to his paintings. Only a handful were salvageable. He looked to the castle. At least he could ask for shelter as opposed to being stranded in the woods.

The castle doors creaked open before he could lay a hand on them. Carl eyed them warily. “Hello?” He called, stepping through the entrance. Darkness and silence greeted him. Only his voice echoed through the hall. 

“He must have gotten lost.” A whisper startled Carl from his right. 

“Shut up!” Another voice hissed back. 

“Hello?” Carl repeated. “I had an accident with my cart and my horse abandoned me. Please, I just need somewhere to spend the night.”

“See! Gavin, he’s in need of help.”

“Nines, shut the fuck up before he hears us.” 

Carl couldn’t find the source of the voices. No one had entered the hall aside from himself. A candelabra illuminated a small portion of the hall. As Carl approached to pick it up, he noticed the elaborate clock that stood next to it. A beautiful work of craftsmanship.

With the candelabra in hand, Carl began to make his way up the grand staircase. He was so distracted by his surroundings, that he missed the looming shadow that darted in the space behind him. 

“Oh fuck.” One of the voices muttered. Carl nearly dropped the candelabra as he realized that it had come from directly next to him. “Shit, you should go.” This time, Carl did drop the candelabra.

It clattered loudly against the ground. In the exact moment the sound echoed through the hall, a thunderous noise landed behind him. Carl spun around in time to be grabbed roughly by the collar.

Except the hand that clutched his shirt wasn’t a hand.

It was a massive paw.

~ ~ ~

Markus scrawled new notes as he flipped through the Deschartes book. Beings that think, have freedom and the desire to be free ingrained in them. But what do they choose to do with that freedom?

His notations were interrupted by a horse braying from the garden. He looked out of the window to see Carl’s horse.

Without Carl.

Markus rushed outside. The horse was spooked to say the least. “Where is he? Where’s Carl?” Markus held the reins as he stroked the horse’s muzzle. “Take me to him.” He said in a low, determined voice, mounting the horse. 

The rapid thumping of hooves matched the speed of Markus’s heart. Something horrible, something that terrified him, must have happened to Carl. Did he have a coughing fit that spiraled into something worse? Was he dead already? 

Strong flanks rippled under him. He was pushing the horse as fast as it could go. Please. The surrounding woods were unfamiliar and he was purely trusting the horse to lead him. 

Chilled air hit his face. Markus frowned, because even at the speed they were moving, the air should have been warm; it was summer after all.

At first Markus thought he imagined it when a snowflake landed on his cheek. He didn’t have time to wonder too closely about it, until he realized that the snowfall was becoming heavier the deeper they went into the woods. Thick trees loomed overhead like petrified giants. 

Markus was so focused on the strange snow that he didn’t notice the castle until he had practically rode directly into it. He dismounted, boots sending the powdery snow in all directions. It coated the ground and winding steps to the castle entrance. Doors taller than anything Markus had ever imagined stood firmly, carved from stunning oak. He only took a moment to marvel at the sight, before cautiously pushing them open.

He pushed down the hood of his cloak, taking in the incredible foyer before him. But despite its beauty, it was as if a blanket of stillness stifled the whole castle. It was desolate. 

“For fuck’s sake, now there’s another!” Someone groaned loudly and Markus instantly whirled towards the sound, raising his guard. All he could see was an ornate clock with a diagonal crack across its face. “I’m going to kill Nines.” The clock opened its eyes. Its eyes.

Nope.

“You’re here for the old man aren’t ya? Christ, one person comes through and the next thing you know, the whole village is here.” It grumbled.

“What the fuck.” Markus said succinctly.

“What the fuck indeed. My handsome mug got turned into a clock and now I’m basically a glorified doorman.” The clock jumped down and made its way towards another elaborate staircase. “Follow me before we catch anyone’s attention.”

Markus was too dumbfounded to do anything but follow. He suddenly felt a world away from his philosophy readings. 

The clock led him to a passage that held a narrow spiral staircase. It went deep below the ground, with only the clanging of the clock ahead to let him know where he was going. 

Dungeons. He was being led to dungeons. Markus swallowed the dry lump in his throat. 

Carl was slumped against the door of a cell. Even from across the room, Markus could hear his labored breathing. “Carl!” He shouted, racing to the door to reach for his father through the bars. Carl raised his head.

“Markus,” He said in a weary voice, “go. You need to get out of here as fast as you can, you hear me?”

“Dad.” Markus’s voice broke. “I’m not leaving you. How did this happen?” 

“Markus!” Carl pleaded. “Run!”

The swish of a cloak against the stone floor echoed like a shout. Markus spun around, protectively guarding the door. 

“Who are you?” A figure enshrouded in shadow had emerged. 

“I’m Markus. I’m his son. Please, my father is sick.”

“He is a trespasser.” The figure growled back, pacing like a wild animal.

“He could die here. I’m not about to let that happen.” Markus stood his ground defiantly. Carl was a prisoner. A prisoner of this cruel man. But maybe… “I’ll take his place. I’ll suffer his sentence if you let him go.” 

The figure paused its pacing. “You would do that for him?” 

“Yes. Without hesitation.”

For a moment there was silence. Markus almost wondered if the figure had left. “This is not a choice you can undo. You would be choosing a lifetime of imprisonment here.”

Markus squinted at the shape in the darkness. “Come into the light.”

The cloak swished again. A shaft of light illuminated a small part of the dungeon. But as the figure stepped forward, it was enough to reveal his face.

Honey blond fur was matted against a lion-like head. In fact, his whole body was covered in fur. Massive paws swung at his sides. Piercing blue eyes peered from under another thick tuft of fur. Despite the rest of his appearance, there was something incredibly human about the look in those eyes. Markus resisted the urge to take a step backwards.

“My answer is still yes.” He said stubbornly. The beast blinked in surprise.

“Markus, no!” Carl spoke through another cough. “I won’t let you do this for me.”

“Deal.” The beast growled. He opened the cell door, pulling Carl out. 

“Wait!” Markus called as the beast took his father up the stairs by the back of his cloak. “Please!” He screamed.

The clock that had led him down there gave him a pitiful look. “If it’s any consolation, Nines will probably be preparing a real room for you already. God, he’s so type A.” If Markus knew any better, he’d say there was a hint of fondness in his voice. 

“Who’s Nines?” Hardly the most pressing of his questions, but it was a good start.

The clock’s face fell. “He’s nobody. Just a prick.”

“Gavin, there’s no need to be unpleasant.” Markus blanched as a feather duster came soaring down the stairs. 

“Fuck off Chloe. I’m not wrong.” The clock - Gavin - grumbled. 

“Come with me, sir. I’ll show you to your room.” Chloe said with a gentle smile. She floated up the stairway, leading Markus back out of the dungeons. 

The darkness of the castle had disappeared. A candelabra was doing its best approximation of a sprint up and down the hallways, clinking its hands(?) together as candles lit themselves. 

“Nines!” Gavin called, and the candelabra turned around.

“Monsieur,” Nines addressed Markus. “What would your name be?”

“Markus.” He said with a halfhearted smile. It was probably best to be polite to the people who were actually friendly to him if he was going to be locked up here for the rest of his life.

A door opened as Chloe flew up to it. She motioned with her feathers for Markus to follow. When he set foot in the room, he heard the thunderous slam of the castle’s entrance doors. As he tried to look down the barrister in the direction of the sound, Gavin and Nines pushed impatiently at the backs of his legs.

“Trust me, it’s better to avoid his temper right now.” Gavin grimaced.

Markus clenched his jaw and let himself be escorted into the room. 

Wow.

The bedroom was practically as big as his whole house. A childish urge arose for him to throw himself on the bed and see if it was as soft as it looked. There was something tasteful about the color palette of pale blues and golds that draped the room. He took a seat on the bed, taking in the room with awe. Then a dull pain grew in his chest.

Carl was gone. He was safe back in the village, but Markus would never get to see him again. At least he was alright. Carl had given him everything; this was the least he could do in return. 

That didn’t stop Markus from wishing bitterly that he could have said goodbye.

“That was a very brave thing you did for your father.” A tea cart rolled into the room, jolting him from his frustration. The teapot at its helm was speaking to him.

“We all think so.” Added the wardrobe; which until this moment, Markus hadn’t even realized was… alive? Was everything in this castle alive?

“He’s so pretty Kara!” A teacup said to the teapot. 

“Don’t you mean ‘irritatingly handsome’?” Gavin drawled.

“No, Alice definitely means pretty.” The wardrobe mused. Gavin did his best attempt at a shrug.

“Fair enough.”

Markus coughed, trying to hide the blush covering his cheeks. 

“You’re all making him uncomfortable. Let’s give him some space while we finish preparing dinner.” Kara said in a soothing voice. Gavin, Nines, and Alice all were herded out of the door as Kara gave him a friendly wink. 

When they had all left, Markus released the tight grip on his pants leg that he didn’t realize he was balling into a fist. 

“They really don’t mean any harm. It’s been a long time since we’ve had any visitors, so our manners aren’t exactly anything to write home about.” The wardrobe chuckled. “I’m Josh. It’s good to meet you.” Josh paused uncomfortably. “Well, clearly the circumstances could be better, but I bet you’ll find some semblance of comfort here eventually.”

“Yeah, ‘comfort’.” Markus scoffed. “That’s exactly what I should expect after trading myself into a lifetime of imprisonment.”

Josh fell silent, looking at him with undisguised pity. 

“We can get you dressed for dinner in the meantime. It might take your mind off of everything, even if it’s for a little bit.” He said.

Markus shook his head. “I’m not going to dinner. I can’t be expected to sit at the table with my captor and exchange niceties, or whatever he -“ Gavin re-entered the room and coughed loudly.

After making a show of bowing sarcastically, he said “Dinner is ready.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote two lines of reed900 in this before I stopped to rewatch Detroit: Evolution for probably the 30th time. Anyway, stan Octopunk Media for clear skin.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Simon roared. He dug his claws into the meat of his paw. Gavin rolled his eyes at the dramatics while Simon resisted the urge to knock something expensive over. 

“He was very adamant about not-” Nines was cut off by Simon rushing past him in a blur of fur. 

“So much for being calm and collected.” Gavin huffed. They hurried after him. Simon launched himself up the stairs towards Markus’s room. 

Since the spell had been cast on the castle, Simon found that his temper was near unmanageable. He had never been an angry person - until being turned into a petrifying beast at least. And in this moment, he felt rage boil within him. How was he supposed to attempt to be polite to this man if he refused to give Simon a chance? They were doomed to spend the rest of eternity in each other’s company. 

Simon slammed his fist against the door. “You were ordered to come down to dinner!” The fur on his back stood on end in anger when the man replied.

“I’m not hungry.” He said cooly. 

“Come out or I will break down this door!” Simon’s roar echoed through the hallway.

“Simon, for fuck’s sake, at least attempt to be a sociable person.” Gavin hit his hind leg with a quick jab of metal. Simon turned to see Chloe, Nines, and Kara all giving him equally as judgmental looks. He took a deep breath.

“He’s being difficult.” Simon said through gritted teeth. 

“No one can blame him for that.” Kara said firmly, in a motherly tone that she didn’t often use. “He’s lost his father and freedom in one day. Markus might need some time before he’s ready to talk to the one who he believes is responsible for all of this.” 

Simon softened. He leaned his forehead against the door, feeling cold wood press against his fur. “Would you please join me for dinner?”

“No!” Markus retorted forcefully. Simon pointed an accusatory finger at the door, glaring back at his friends.

“All I ask is for you to spend one meal with me.” Simon tried again.

“No thank you!” Markus said. “I’d rather starve.”

“Then starve!” Simon roared. “I don’t need your company. If you don’t choose to eat with me, then you will not be allowed to eat at all.”

Gavin slapped a hand against his glass face in an approximation of a facepalm while Chloe and Kara exchanged exasperated glances. Nines gave no visible reaction, which was somehow the most brutal of all. 

Simon brushed his fur back. Ignoring the looks his friends gave him, he turned away, leaving abruptly.

Markus slumped down against the door. The soft sound of paws retreating clued him in to Simon’s departure. He sighed, clasping his hands together behind his neck and tucking his head between his knees. 

“Markus?” A quiet voice came from the other side of the door. He cracked it open to see the teapot - Kara - smiling comfortingly at him. He opened the door to let the rest of them in. 

They all looked at him sympathetically. “Simon isn’t always that way. He’s one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet if you just give him a chance.” Chloe said. Markus raised an eyebrow. “Believe me; his anger isn’t his fault.” 

At that, Markus let out a bitter laugh. “Oh really? Whose is it then? Because I don’t see any kindness in that…” He trailed off, not able to find the right word to describe Simon. He sighed. 

Across the castle, high in the west wing, Simon stared at the image in the mirror. Its magic faded as Markus finished speaking, fading back to its ordinary background. 

He couldn’t blame him. Couldn’t fault him in any way. “It's hopeless.” He muttered to himself. The man who was bound to hate him, was also his last chance at reversing the curse. Simon glanced up at the glass covering for a single rose. The same rose the enchantress had offered him almost ten years ago. The rose that had doomed him…

Petals blanketed the bottom of the glass. Simon had always been too afraid to clean them away. It felt like simply looking at the rose for too long would speed up the process. Only a handful of petals remained.

The first contact from the outside world in all of this time had come in the form of a man sacrificing himself to save his father. Right when the clock was almost up. Fate was cutting it really fucking close. 

His mind wandered to his friends. The whole castle was wrapped up in this curse. All of the lives that were permanently altered because of him. He owed it to them to do everything in his power to free them; to give them their lives back. They didn’t deserve the same fate he did. Simon cradled his face in his paws, raking claws through the thick fur. Love couldn’t be forced. But if it meant freeing the others, Simon would give all of the love he had to give to Markus. 

The problem would be being loved in return.

And who could love someone who imprisoned them?

~ ~ ~

As the last hours of the night darkened the castle, Markus slipped through the hallways as silently as he could. There were no wooden floorboards to worry about causing the errant creak so he felt a lot less uneasy exploring. 

Despite the silence he tried to maintain, Markus didn’t hear the rustling from behind a tapestry as he passed.

“Gavin!” Came a stray giggle. Nines squirmed away as Gavin playfully tried to squeeze him in a hug. 

“Admit it tin can. You’re a sap.” The clock pinched out the flame on Nines head with a grin. 

“I hate you.”

“You love me.” Gavin said fondly, ready to draw Nines in for another hug when he caught sight of Markus down the hall. “Oh shit.” The two raced after the man, only catching up as he entered the kitchen.

“Markus! We didn’t expect to see you this late.” Kara said, as he walked in. Gavin skid to a halt in front of Markus and opened his mouth but Nines promptly bodychecked him out of the way. 

“Is there anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant?” Nines asked politely.

Markus smiled awkwardly. “I am a little hungry. I know he said-”

“Fuck what Simon said. Simon says shit but that doesn’t mean we do it.” Gavin snorted, jumping onto the counter. “Wake up Jerry. You get to show off after all.” 

The stove roared to life with a roiling flame as pots and pans clattered into position. “Welcome Markus!” It said cheerfully. 

Markus waved sheepishly at Jerry. Kara pushed at the back of his legs, moving him along into an elaborate dining room. He took a seat at the head of the table after Nines gestured for him to sit. “You’re our guest, not a prisoner. It's our job to make you feel welcome. Don’t worry about Simon. Leave that to us.” Chloe said with a flourish and a wink as she flew by.

He watched in wonder as course after course of culinary masterpiece was brought out for him to try. Markus had never even seen most of the foods presented to him. The faces of Kara, Nines, Gavin, and Chloe that were all becoming familiar kept him company while he ate, making pleasant conversation. For the first time since he had arrived, Markus felt comfortable and … happy. 

“So you’ve all been here for ten years?” He asked. Kara nodded sadly.

“You’re the first company we’ve had in a long time.” Chloe said.

Markus pondered over it. “That seems… lonely.” 

Nines cast a glance over at Gavin. “We all have each other.”

After a moment of silence, Markus stood. “I know it’s late, but is there any way I could take a look around the castle?”

Gavin grimaced and Kara put a thoughtful look on her face. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt. We’ll take you anywhere you’d like to go.” She said. “Except the west wing.” Her voice became firm.

Markus frowned. “What’s in the west wing?”

“We could tell you, but we’d have to kill you.” Gavin interjected dryly.

“Simon has forbidden anyone from entering the west wing. It’s best to obey his wishes in that regard.” Nines said.

The small group led Markus through the castle. They introduced him to the suits of armor, including a very strong–willed one by the name of North. As they entered the foyer, Markus lingered at the stairs to the west wing. Curiosity pulled him closer like an anchor in his chest.

Nines and Gavin quickly blocked his path. “Do you have a death wish?” Nines asked sternly.

“What could he be hiding up there?” Markus wondered aloud.

“Nothing as interesting as the library.” Nines countered. “We have books from authors you’ve never even heard of.” That momentarily caught Markus’s attention.

“Lead the way.” He said.

As Nines and Gavin kept talking while Chloe and Kara trailed ahead, Markus slipped away. He took hurried steps up the stairs until he was standing at the end of the west wing. Ornate doors of beautiful wood hid whatever was beyond them. After a moment’s hesitation, he eased them open.

A room that must have once been magnificent, looked like a pack of wolves had torn it apart. The four poster bed was collapsed in on itself and various comfort items had been pulled over to it so that it resembled a nest. 

Markus eyed a torn painting at the other side of the room. The canvas had been shredded, but he could still make out the striking eyes of a portrait. They were a familiar shade of blue that felt too unique to be a coincidence, yet he couldn’t place them. Before he could smooth the ripped canvas back into place to see the full portrait, a subtle glow caught his eye. 

A stunning rose was levitating in the center of a protective glass dome. Most of its petals had fallen, leaving only a few behind. Markus was transfixed.

He found himself lifting the dome and reaching a hand out to stroke a petal, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see Simon had emerged from the balcony and was staring him down with an animalistic snarl. 

Simon snatched the dome up and covered the rose. “Do you realize what you could’ve done? What did you think you were doing?” He growled, practically roaring again. Markus faltered in standing his ground as Simon’s anger seemed to elevate.

“I-”

“Get out!” Simon’s voice thundered through the halls as Markus ran. He ran as fast as his feet would carry him to the entrance. The others said a rush of ‘Wait!’s and ‘Don’t go’s but he didn’t stop. Promise or not, he couldn’t stay.

He mounted his horse, taking off into the brutal snowstorm that he hadn’t even realized had hit. The castle gates flung open for him, releasing him to the woods. As more and more thick snow came down around him, Markus realized he couldn’t see further than a few feet ahead in any direction. 

“Stop.” He ordered his horse. For a moment, he squinted through the blinding white to try and get his bearings. But his blood ran colder than the snow when all he saw were the emerging forms of wolves around him. One snapped its jaws at his horse’s hindquarters.

His horse reared and kicked one of the wolves square across the skull. It fell into a heap on the snow. Markus snapped the reins, urging his horse to make a run for the trail, but the wolves quickly surrounded them. He reached up and broke off a low hanging branch, swinging it at the wolves. As they raced through the trees, Markus failed to see an even lower branch before he crashed into it. It splintered as he collided with it, but it threw him off the horse’s back.

He was surrounded. Markus grit his teeth and raised the branch. He was prepared to die fighting.

As a wolf leered closer, Markus gripped the branch tighter. But a massive paw grabbed the wolf by the scruff of its neck and threw it as far as it could. Simon stood protectively between Markus and the wolves. He was covering him nearly entirely. Simon let out a thunderous roar, louder than any that Markus had heard yet, before swiping at any wolves that dared to come near. 

One of the wolves lunged at Simon, digging its teeth into the meat of his arm. He howled as the other wolves descended upon him. In a split second’s decision, Markus raised the branch and swung it. The branch knocked several of the wolves away. 

In tandem, Markus and Simon launched attacks at the wolves, until the pack scattered, leaving them alone in the snow. Markus turned to Simon, not sure what to say, when he noticed the deep red stain pooling in the snow. Simon leveled an unfocused gaze at Markus before keeling over. Gashes and bites riddled Simon’s form. His eyes had lolled back into his head.

For the briefest moment, Markus considered mounting his horse and leaving while he could. But as he looked back on Simon, he made up his mind.

Getting Simon back to the castle was no easy task. Somehow, he managed to make it before the snow became too unbearable. After a panic from his newfound friends, he found himself dipping a towel in hot water while Simon rested in a chair. 

Simon was licking his wound, much like a dog would. His face turned sheepish when he saw Markus staring. “Hold still.” Markus ordered softly. He reached out with the soaked cloth and gently dabbed at the wound. Simon howled, pulling his arm away. 

“That hurt!” His voice was a mixture of indignant and angry.

“It wouldn’t hurt so much if you’d stay still like I asked.” Markus retorted.

“I wouldn’t be hurt in the first place if you hadn’t run away!”

“I wouldn’t have run away if you hadn’t lost your temper with me!” Markus shot back.

They fell silent. Kara refilled the bowl of hot water and Markus dipped the towel in again. 

“Hold still this time. It’ll probably sting.” He said gently. Simon grit his teeth, holding back a growl as the hot cloth made contact with the open wound again. Markus didn’t realize that his free hand was tracing circles on Simon’s arm to calm him until he pulled away. “I should thank you, for saving my life.” He chanced a glance up. Simon was looking at him with a curious stare. Like he couldn’t quite make of Markus.

“You’re welcome.” He replied softly. After a beat of silence, Markus tore his eyes away.

The hot press of his hand lingered on Simon in a way that made the cloth seem nearly cold.


	4. Chapter 4

The snowfall finally let up after almost a week. Simon had given Markus some space; letting him process things on his own. What had surprised Simon though was the fact that Markus sought out Simon’s company. After what had happened in the woods, the man had made it a point to talk to Simon - more than once.

There was still a thin line of tension that Simon wanted to avoid. He didn’t ask about where Markus had lived before the castle or about his father, but he tried to learn about him as a person as best as he could. Things like Markus’s love of sitting in the castle’s front courtyard and sketching, or his early rising tendencies. He was a morning person while Simon preferred to spend hours in bed until Kara forced him to get up. 

Markus had found an old pad of paper and the graphite sticks he had kept in his side pouch were fairly undamaged from what they’d gone through over the time since his arrival. Simon rested his head in his paw as he leaned on the balcony railing. Down below, Markus was sitting in front of the wild rose bushes that had overtaken a portion of the garden in its disuse. Simon couldn’t make out the drawing that he was working on but it was a good guess to assume that Markus had chosen the roses as his subject. Simon felt a flush rise under his fur when Markus caught him staring. The man raised a hand and waved with a soft smile. Simon shyly waved back.

“Your romantic skills are unmatched.” Gavin drawled sarcastically. Nines smacked him lightly.

“I don’t have any romantic experience.” Simon grumbled. 

“That much is obvious.” Chloe said in an uncharacteristic moment of snideness.

“I want to do something nice for him.” Simon declared. Then quickly deflated. “But what?”

“Well, what do you know about him?” Gavin asked.

Simon didn’t even need to hesitate as he answered. “He’s compassionate, kind…” He traced over the bandage on his forearm that Markus had wrapped. “And forgiving. When he talks about all of his favorite philosophers and the nature of humanity, his eyes light up like suns. Markus believes in the good of people.” He sighed. “Even people like me.”

The others didn’t say anything. Simon watched Markus set his sketchbook aside and knelt in the snow. He cradled a rose carefully before tearing a picture out of his sketchbook and wrapping the flower in it. 

“I have an idea.” 

  
  
  


~ ~ ~

  
  
  


Simon took a deep breath as he led Markus through the west wing. Markus was eyeing their surroundings suspiciously, as if he couldn’t figure out what Simon was planning.

“Close your eyes Markus.” Simon said softly. Markus frowned, not immediately complying. “It’s a surprise.” Simon attempted a winning smile. The hesitation on Markus’s face disappeared and he closed his eyes.

Faltering only slightly, Simon reached out for Markus’s hand. He didn’t flinch back like Simon expected. In fact, Markus slid his hand into a loose hold against Simon’s; practically relishing in the contact.

Simon would’ve sworn up and down that his heart skipped not one - but several beats.

He guided Markus up another flight of stairs before stopping them in front of a door. Simon eased it open and steered Markus in. 

“You can open them.” 

A quiet intake of breath escaped Markus. It was the rose that he had been so fascinated by on the night that he and Simon fought the wolves. The protective dome was still placed over it, but Simon had set a chair in front of the table. He nudged Markus in the direction of the chair so he would sit down, then handed him a new sketchbook.

“I noticed you spend a lot of time in the garden and that you enjoy art…” Simon withdrew a box from a chest in the far corner of the room. “I thought you might like this.” He opened the box to show what could only be very expensive oil pastels that Markus had only ever dreamed of using. 

“Simon…” Markus said in a breathless voice. “I can’t possibly accept this.”

Simon blanked on what the socially acceptable protocol could be to that response. Markus must’ve noticed his confused distress because he took the box with a gratuitous smile. “You’re saying I can draw the rose?” Simon nodded. “The other day you acted like that rose was the most delicate thing on the planet.” 

Simon ran his claws through the thicker parts of his fur. He lifted the dome. “Many years ago, we lived as humans. Every single inhabitant of this castle- everyone you’ve met. We were all people.” He dropped his chin to the table, staring resolutely at the flower. “This rose was given to me the night we were cursed. When all of its petals fall… we are doomed to stay like this forever.” Simon picked one of the fallen petals up between the pads of his paw. “You can imagine why I would be protective of it.”

“Why were you cursed?” Markus asked. 

Simon huffed. “The ‘why’ doesn’t matter.” He stood, placing the dome back over the rose.

“There must be a way to undo the curse though. You can’t all be like this… forever.” The look on Markus’s face could almost be described as heartbroken. 

“The only hope we have is not a solution that can be controlled.” 

“What do you mean ‘not a solution that can be controlled’?” Markus asked, irritated by the cryptic nature of the answer.

Simon’s ears twitched minutely.  _ You can’t force someone to fall in love with you. _ “Our curse can’t be broken. Let’s just leave it at that.” He said firmly. 

Markus didn’t want to drop the subject but when he saw the defeated slump to Simon’s shoulders, he turned to his sketchbook instead. For the next few hours, the two sat and talked while Markus worked. Simon told him about the history of the castle and about the silly things their friends had gotten up to over the years while Markus told him about life back in the village.

After Markus finished his piece, they walked back down to the front courtyard. He slipped the picture onto Simon’s bed before they left the room to get their cloaks. 

The snow came up to his calves. Simon had no trouble wading through it. Markus on the other hand, had to take sizable steps to make it through. He heard a snort and looked to see Simon quickly cover his mouth with his paw. 

There was something sweet about it. Almost endearing. He was beginning to believe that maybe the others were right about Simon. There was more to him than his anger. He had been open and honest about the rose; a vulnerable gesture that Markus hadn’t expected.

Markus tripped and landed face first in a deeper bank of snow. This time, Simon didn’t bother to hide his laughter. Markus scowled, pushing himself up. He grabbed a handful of snow and packed it tightly into a ball before lobbing it at Simon. Snow slid down the side of his face as Simon blinked in surprise. Within moments, it had escalated to a full scale snowball fight.

Their laughter rang through the castle grounds.

Markus tackled Simon to the ground in an attempt to shove snow down the back of his cloak. They wrestled for a moment before realizing that Markus had Simon pinned only inches beneath him. Simon could easily push him off.

He didn’t.

Labored breathing filled the air and Markus could see the cool fog swirling between them. Powdered snow was caught in the locks of Simon’s mane. Neither of them moved. 

The thin line of tension felt palpable to Simon. This was dangerously close to crossing it. He wasn’t sure what he would have done next, but lucky Markus decided for him. A mischievous glint shone in his dual-colored eyes before he shoveled a pile of snow over Simon’s face. Markus’s weight lifted from him as Simon brushed the snow off. When it was cleared from his eyes, he saw that Markus had his hand extended to help him up, with a genuine smile spreading across his face.

From the windows, their friends observed with smiles of their own.

“There may be hope for us yet.” Kara said.

“There’s definitely a spark there.” Nines agreed.

“A spark of what?” Alice asked. Her mother simply smiled at her. “What?”

“They’d better hurry it up if we want to be human again.” Gavin grumbled but they all knew he didn’t really mean it. “The last petal could fall in a matter of weeks. We’re running out of time.”

“You can’t rush love Gav.” Nines shot him an affectionately exasperated look that had Gavin’s attitude melting away almost instantly.

The gears in Gavin’s head started turning, causing an alarming ticking to come from the clock. After a beat of silence, he hollered, “I have a plan!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cranked this out before midnight so please leave comments of any kind; they're what keeps me writing <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got stuck with the writers curse of wanting to start a new WIP before finishing this one

Simon had never seen the castle so clean as long as he could remember. Somehow, Gavin had employed everyone to clean -well-  _ everything. _ Every trace of dust was whisked away. Life and light illuminated the castle. The gardens were trimmed and flourished over the weeks that Gavin had enacted his plan. 

The old ballroom had gathered a decades worth of grime. Mops and brooms diligently removed the layers on the floor while Chloe led the dusters to tidy up the walls and ceilings. An ornate painted ceiling was revealed as Nines brought down the repaired chandelier. 

“Don’t fuck this up Si. This will be a perfect night of romance and gushy feelings for you to confess your love.” Gavin poured another pitcher of water over Simon’s head. 

“I don’t-” Simon spluttered through a mouthful of bathwater. “Can I even be sure it’s love?”

A collective groan rose around the room. “You love that man.” Kara was heating the other pitchers of water as she spoke. “You look at Markus like he’s the only person in the world.” She said with a smile.

“Even when the rest of us are all in the middle of your eye-fucking.” Nines said. Gavin snorted. Those two spent too much time around each other.

“You let him into your room to paint the rose that you won’t let any of us around, just so you could see him smile.” Kara continued.

“Last week you spent 29 minutes gushing about how unique and beautiful his eyes are. I had Gavin time it.” Chloe chimed in. 

Simon knew that if he were human, he’d be turning a deep shade of pink. They weren’t wrong. He couldn’t deny their proof.

He shook himself like a wet dog until his fur was dry, with the help of a towel that Chloe attempted to whisk around him. “What if Markus doesn’t feel the same?” He dared an apprehensive glance out of the window to see Markus wandering the grounds. 

One of the Jerries set to work attempting to style his fur into something presentable. 

No response came. Simon watched yet another petal drift lazily to the bottom of the vase. They were almost out of time. The four months since Markus’s arrival had passed quickly. Before he had known it, it was the day before Simon’s 22nd birthday. The end of his 21st year. 

He prayed to any god listening that he didn’t mess this up- not just for his sake, but for his friends who had been roped into this eternal punishment too. He had to at least try to save them.

Below, in the gardens, Markus thumbed through one of his books. Simon had written his own notes and thoughts on the passages they had read together and Markus was fascinated to learn how his mind worked. Other than Connor - who tried his best to keep up with his friend’s interests - Markus hadn’t ever met anyone with his genuine passion or interest towards philosophy and curiosity in general. 

He wasn’t ignorant to Simon’s change in demeanor over the past months. As the beast’s internal walls had come down, the kind hearted soul shone through. There was a whole world that Simon hadn’t experienced and Markus wanted desperately to share it with him. 

So his research had begun. Simon had alluded to a way to break the curse, but was very stubborn in refusing to reveal it to Markus. He had asked almost everyone in the castle, only to be met with a wall of resistance. No one was willing to say. 

It was all too easy for them to avoid Markus while they cleaned the castle. All of his efforts resulted in someone darting away, exclaiming that Gavin needed them for the urgent task of revitalizing everything in sight. There was still topiary being shaped into elegant designs while he walked through the garden.

Soaking up a last bit of sun, Markus reentered the castle and walked to his room. Instantly, Josh flung open his doors in a near panic. 

“Markus, where have you been?” He asked hysterically.

“What’s going on?” Markus set his books down on his bed. The room had actually begun to feel like his own; not a glorified prison cell.

“Gavin’s been on all of our asses about setting up for tonight.” Josh sent a blur of yellowish gold fabric flying onto the bed. “We have this… tradition. Simon’s birthday is tomorrow and the evening before is spent as a celebration to usher him into his next year of life.” Markus didn’t notice the lie that Josh came up with on the spot. He was too busy examining the outfit that Josh had procured for him. 

The suit fit him better than anything Markus had ever owned. The stunning gold details were offset by a cream and stark white pairing of fabric between the overcoat and undershirt. There were no irritating ruffles like many of the fancy tailored suits Markus had heard described to him. If anything, the inside of the suit was a comfortable imitation of silk. 

“How do I look?” Markus held out his arms for Josh to pass judgment. 

Josh smiled warmly at his friend. “Like a prince.”

  
  
  


~ ~ ~

  
  
  
  


Simon padded aimlessly back and forth at the top of the stairs. He adjusted the cravat around his neck yet again. His suit felt too tight, too constricting, despite being perfectly tailored. His anxieties were bubbling up at an alarming rate. Just as he was about to call off Gavin’s whole plan and retreat to his room, he caught sight of Markus standing on the landing of the other set of stairs. Markus beamed at Simon in a way that he’d never seen before. Being on the receiving end of such a smile nearly set Simon’s heart on fire. The suit that Josh had chosen for Markus was incredible. It was as if he wanted to dress Markus as the sun.

They met in the middle, Simon offering his paw out for Markus to take, which he did graciously. 

Gavin had been true to his word when he said that it would be a perfect night for romance. The ballroom practically beckoned to be used as Markus dragged Simon onto the floor with a grin. A slow waltz echoed through the room and he could see his friends encouraging him from a corner. Simon wasn’t sure where exactly to start, but Markus eased him into the steps of the waltz as if it were as natural as breathing. 

Simon was enchanted. Not by the curse; but by Markus. 

This kind, strong-willed, forgiving man in his arms. As Markus softly smiled at him, Simon felt  _ seen _ . Seen for more than a beast- more than a cursed prince. 

Markus was leading the waltz but Simon picked up enough of the steps to follow along without any verbal instruction. He was worried that if either of them spoke, it would break the spell that they were entranced in. 

The others were right; this was love.

Markus leaned his head against Simon’s broad chest. The proximity was setting all of Simon’s nerves on fire. If Markus could hear how rapidly Simon’s heart was beating, he didn’t say.

The song came to an end and Simon led Markus to the elegant glass doors that opened to a balcony. Crisp night air greeted them. Markus leaned against the stone rail casually, gazing at the stars. 

Simon took his place next to him. After a silent moment, he reached out a paw and brushed Markus’s cheek. “Markus,” he asked hesitantly, “are you happy here?”

Markus raised his head. “Simon, I haven’t been a prisoner here for a long time. It’s my choice to stay with all of you. I would have left if I weren’t happy.” 

As Simon searched for his next words, they were both distracted by the sound of an incoming horse echoing through the grounds. Markus stood as the rider abruptly halted upon catching sight of them on the balcony above. The rider pulled his hood down. “Connor?” 

Markus knew the rider? Wait, he had mentioned Connor when he talked about his village. Simon watched Markus’s face light up upon seeing the man. A bolt of fear ran through him. Was Markus’s heart already taken?

Markus was running towards the castle entrance at full speed. When the front doors opened, he and Connor flew together in a hug. “I missed you so much buddy.” He muttered.

The reunion was short-lived as Connor caught sight of Simon over Markus’s shoulder. The initial panic disappeared as Markus stepped towards Simon.

“He’s not dangerous.” Markus placed his hand softly on Simon’s forearm, deliberately ignoring Connor’s raised eyebrow and half smile. “Why are you here?”

“Carl’s sickness; he’s gotten worse.” 

Markus’s heart dropped into his stomach. “No. I should’ve been with him. I should be there to help.” 

Simon watched Markus’s face. Their friends had arrived and a look at Gavin’s clock face told him that it was only a matter of hours before the final petal fell. Time was up.

“Go to him.” Simon said somberly. 

“What?”

“Your father needs you Markus. Go home. Be with him.” 

He gaped at Simon. “Thank you.” He placed a hand on Simon’s cheek and brushed his thumb over the fur. “I’ll come back. I promise.” 

It wouldn’t matter. By the end of the night, the curse would be unbreakable.

Simon fished in the deep pockets of his suit and pulled out the magic mirror. He pressed it into Markus’s hands. “So you can look back and remember us.” Simon locked eyes with Markus. “So you can remember me.”

“Like I could ever forget.” Markus scoffed quietly. 

They stepped outside and Connor mounted his horse. He offered Markus a hand up. Silent looks were exchanged. Markus watched Simon as they rode away, until they were small figures disappearing into the forest.

Simon felt a heavy weight fall across his shoulders. Markus was leaving. He’d never see him again. 

“Come on. Let’s all spend our last hours being a little less miserable.” Nines pulled at Simon’s tail and when he turned he saw all of his friends giving him melancholy smiles.

They went inside, preparing for the end of everything they knew.

  
  



End file.
